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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639220">Nationals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NozomiMizore/pseuds/NozomiMizore'>NozomiMizore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!! Japan concert band AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gay Disaster Sakusa Kiyoomi, Getting Together, M/M, Sakusa pov, band au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:53:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NozomiMizore/pseuds/NozomiMizore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year since elementary band, Kiyoomi sees Miya Atsumu at Japan Nationals. They become friends, and, Kiyoomi the gay, pining mess, falls for Miya Atsumu.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!! Japan concert band AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nationals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>AhhhhI deleted my old, ongoing band AU fic. I had a new idea, making this a whole series/universe with multiple ships! This is what came to me first :)<br/>This fic is my baby, the HTML formatting took soooooo long</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Elementary School</b>
</p>
<p>Little Kiyoomi held his oboe in his hands, arms shaking, backstage before his first nationals competition. He never thought he'd be here, his first year in band, already playing at nationals. He only joined the band because of his cousin Komori; it was never something he was particularly passionate about. Most of the instruments grossed him out, especially brass; the spit that came out of the instruments were begging to carry some disease. He picked the oboe because of the high matinence it required. It meant Kiyoomi always had to keep it clean, and he was good at that. That, and the silver keys appealed to his child-brain.  </p>
<p>Kiyoomi sighed, absent-mindedly twisting the reed around in the bore of the oboe while he waited. After this band, it was it for them. Everything built up to this. He could feel Komori's buzzing nerves right next to him. </p>
<p>The sound of clapping bled through to the backstage area. Kiyoomi swallowed hard. Suddenly, they were being urged out onto the stage. The bright, warm lights were suffocating. Kiyoomi's knees practically buckled before he made it to his seat. Their director stood at the podium, arms up and ready. Kiyoomi took in a breath, and they played. His sound was too bold and unpracticed, but he didn't care. This was kinda fun, he decided. He wanted to play the oboe forever.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div>Waiting for results felt way worse than the actual competition. Who knew some stupid score would be so nerve-wracking? Kiyoomi sat with the rest of his school in the balcony, watching the other bands. Komori sat on one side and a few empty seats separated him from another school on the other. That other school was oddly loud. They would talk loudly in between every song and whisper to each other when other bands were playing. It was really rude, and Kiyoomi had the mind to do something about it. Wouldn't they just shut up?<p>Komori tried to get Kiyoomi to calm down, but Kiyoomi about had it. During the next song break, he glared right at them. One of the boys, someone with black hair, looked right back. He grabbed the arm of someone right next to him, who looked the exact same. Were they twins? Kiyoomi sighed. How someone liked that could exist two times at once baffled him. Why can't nice and quiet people get twins? The world needs more people like that. </p>
<p>"Hey, curly hair guy! What's  wrong with ya?"  One of the boys yelled. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi froze. He didn't expect to be yelled at. "Stop being so loud! It's really annoying," he huffed.</p>
<p>The other boy laughed. He got up and crossed the few seats to sit by Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi felt a chill go up his spine. Who did this kid think he was, sitting so close to Kiyoomi? </p>
<p>"What do you want?" Kiyoomi questioned, a disgusted look on his face. Having someone he didn't know at all invade his personal space felt terrible.</p>
<p>"Why're ya so mad? Did ya not do well or somethin'?" </p>
<p>Kiyoomi grimaced. "Yeah, you guys won't shut up."</p>
<p>The other boy laughed. "We're just havin' fun! What's yer name? I'm Miya Atsumu!" </p>
<p>"Sakusa Kiyoomi. Why are you sitting here?" Kiyoomi looked away, trying to not look at the bright grin on Atsumu's face. This kid was too cheerful. It was a band competition, everyone was supposed to be nervous!</p>
<p>"Heeeeyy OmiOmi, what do ya play?" </p>
<p>What. The. Heck. Kiyoomi was at a legitimate loss for words. How could someone so annoying exist? He sighed. Maybe if he humored Atsumu, he'd go away. "Oboe. I'm guessing you play some disgusting brass instrument.'</p>
<p>"Disgusting?!" Atsumu looked legitimately affronted. "Trombone is NOT disgusting! It's so cool! The slide is neat! It goes BWWW<span class="small">ooooooo</span> when ya move it!"</p>
<p>"Neat? That thing drops so much spit, it's like you're begging to bring back the black plague." Beside him, Kiyoomi heard Komori snicker, but he chose to pointedly ignore it. Kiyoomi wasn't joking, he was 100% serious. If another plague came to be, it would be because of disgusting brass instruments. </p>
<p>Atsumu pursed his lips. "Omi-kun! Do ya not like germs? I bet ya don't, all dark and stoic."</p>
<p>"Please stop talking." </p>
<p>Atsumu laughed. "Okay, OmiOmi, Imma go back and talk to 'Samu. He's my twin brother, and suuuuper annoying! See you next year in the junior high competitions!" At this, Atsumu finally got up and left. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi sighed and sunk further into his seat. Komori burst out laughing. "Kiyoomi, did you like Miya?" </p>
<p>Kiyoomi sent Komori the darkest glare he could muster and the two remained quiet for the rest of the concert. Kiyoomi did NOT like Miya. That kid was so cheerful and annoying. On top of that, he played a <i>disgusting</i> brass instrument.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div><b>Junior High, 1st year</b><p> </p>
<p>Kiyoomi sighed. Before nationals even started, he already had seen Atsumu Miya. He was talking to his brother outside the building as Kiyoomi's bus pulled up. He sent a silent prayer that Atsumu wouldn't see him, but he knew it was in vain. As soon as he got off the bus, he heard it. Kiyoomi adjusted the mask on his face. He barely remembered the kid. He totally did not want his first junior high nationals to be tainted by the loud twin. </p>
<p>"OmiOmi!! Ya made it again!" Atsumu waved, and his brother looked like he was gonna kill Atsumu. Kiyoomi hoped the brother had more sense than Atsumu.</p>
<p>Kiyoomi glared. He didn't want Atsumu to make a scene, and, as such, decided to make his way over to the twins. If Kiyoomi walked away, Atsumu would probably follow like some lost puppy. An ugly, annoying lost puppy no one wanted. (Kiyoomi knew this was a bad metaphor. Every dog was cute.)</p>
<p>"Miya,  will you shut up?" </p>
<p>Atsumu looked shocked and his twin laughed. "Omi-kun, ya remembered me!" </p>
<p>Kiyoomi glared. Atsumu's bright smile did not give him butterflies (or so he'd like to say). How could someone smile so brightly?</p>
<p>"'Tsumu, shut up. Yer bothering poor Sakusa-san," the twin said. </p>
<p>"Oh, Omi-kun, this is my dumb brother, Osamu. He plays euphonium!"  It felt like every word Atsumu said was 100000000x more impactful because of his smile. It was like staring at the sun. Maybe Kiyoomi needed a mask for his eyes, too.</p>
<p>"Wow, Miya, I'm surprised you know a word that big."</p>
<p>Osamu laughed. Kiyoomi wishes this was the twin he met first. </p>
<p>"Shut up, OmiOmi! Yer just as bad as 'Samu..." Atsumu trailed off, a pout on his face. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi laughed. Atsumu looked up sharply, shocked. He looked like he was about to say something, but the moment was ruined. </p>
<p>"Kiyoomi! Come on, we gotta go!" Komori yelled. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi waved a weak goodbye to the Miya twins. As soon as his back was to them, he heard Atsumu wish him a very boisterous "Good luck!"</p>
<p>Thankfully (sadly), Kiyoomi didn't see Atsumu the rest of the competition that year. He totally didn't feel slightly disappointed by that fact.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***********</p>
</div><b>Junior High, 2nd year</b><p>Kiyoomi had just finished playing at nationals, his hands shaking as he put his oboe in the case. That year, he was first chair oboe. He had a solo. He messed it up. Kiyoomi didn't even want to look anyone in the eyes. He quickly put a mask on, trying to hide as much of his face as possible. He waved his curls to settle more in his face. He brushed off Komori, one thought crossing his mind. </p>
<p>Would he see Atsumu this year?</p>
<p>The question practically answered itself. As soon as Kiyoomi's band was in the seats, Atsumu's was right next to them. If Kiyoomi sat on the side closest to them, Komori kept his mouth shut. Kiyoomi wanted to see someone who wouldn't be disappointed in him, and he knew Atsumu wouldn't be.</p>
<p>As soon as Atsumu saw Kiyoomi's band arrived, he said something to his brother before making his way over to Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi smiled under his mask. </p>
<p>"OmiOmi, are you okay? Ya look like yer about to die any second! Did ya get the plague?" Atsumu's voice was light and cheery, a beautiful reprieve from the pity his bandmates gave him. </p>
<p>"I'm fine." Kiyoomi left it at that, not wanting to say he really wasn't. If Atsumu noticed, he didn't say anything. </p>
<p>Atsumu hummed. He obviously noticed. "How've you been? 'Samu won't shut up about how ya made fun of me last year! He said ya were funny." </p>
<p>Kiyoomi was glad for Atsumu's rambling. It was distracting. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking." He moved some of his curls from his face so he could look at Atsumu more directly.</p>
<p>"Are ya the real OmiOmi, ya just thanked me!" Atsumu exclaimed, eyes going wide. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I am. You're still just as stupid." Kiyoomi looked right into Atsumu's eyes. He felt like he was being sucked into some sort of abyss. It really was like looking into the sun.</p>
<p>Atsumu reached out and pinched Kiyoomi's arm through his sleeve. Kiyoomi didn't feel as disgusted as he normally does at physical contact. What an odd revelation.</p>
<p>"Yer mean, OmiOmi! So mean!" Atsumu said, taking his hand away from Kiyoomi's arm. He missed it, just a little. It was grounding. Kiyoomi's emotions about the concert threatened to break through the surface. It was like the dam was only held by a Hello Kitty band-aid. </p>
<p>Atsumu seemed to notice and turned serious. "Omi-kun, it's okay that ya messed up. Everyone messes up at concerts." He looked down.</p>
<p>"Not everyone messes up a solo at nationals, Miya." Kiyoomi kept his voice quiet. Kiyoomi really was stupid. If he wanted to play oboe forever, he'd have to be <i>perfect</i>.</p>
<p>"It's all good! Mistakes happen! Ya made it this far, right?" Atsumu smiled. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi looked at him. "Yeah, I did." He did make it to nationals, so what mattered what happened now? If people were mad, let them be. They didn't have a solo at the concert. "Thank you, Miya."</p>
<p>Atsumu looked so happy at that small comment. "OmiOmi thanked me! What a wonderful day! I've been truly blessed!!" </p>
<p>Kiyoomi quietly laughed. "Will you shut up? Another band is about to start."</p>
<p>The two sat in silence, listening to the rest of the concert side-by-side. Their hands would brush in the space in between them, and Kiyoomi couldn't bring himself to care. If anything, he wanted more.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***********</p>
</div><b>Junior High, 3rd year</b><p> </p>
<p>Kiyoomi thought about Atsumu way more this year than he had before. He kind of looked forward to seeing him. He wouldn't admit that to anyone, though. His foot tapped the floor of the bus in anticipation. His heel made a <i>clack clack</i> against it. </p>
<p>Of course, Komori noticed. "Kiyoomi, why're you so nervous? Wanna see Miya-san again?"</p>
<p>Kiyoomi glared. "Will you shut up before I personally unscrew every key on your saxophone."</p>
<p>Komori shivered, but chuckled to himself. He spent the rest of the short ride looking down.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**********</p>
</div>When the bus finally pulled up to the nationals concert hall, Kiyoomi's heart began to beat harder in his chest. He then chastised himself in his mind for acting like a child. He'd be in high school next year, he didn't need to act like a little girl over Miya Atsumu. He was gonna be a real almost-adult next year. Kiyoomi Sakusa was too old for childish crushes.<p>Kiyoomi clutched the oboe case in his lap. This was it, he would (hopefully) get to see Atsumu again. Komori sensed his nervousness and laughed. It felt like he knew more than he let on.</p>
<p>"Alright! Everyone get off, one by one!" The director said, urging everyone to leave.</p>
<p>Kiyoomi waited until everyone was off before departing, mask already on his face. He ran a hand through the curls on his head, and the other clutched his oboe case tight. He heard the voices of other loud junior high students outside, girls squealing and boys yelling. He tried to pick out that one voice, but couldn't. Kiyoomi sighed. </p>
<p>He stepped off the bus, warm air greeting him like a hug. Komori was waiting for him, and Kiyoomi saw someone else. Miya Atsumu. </p>
<p>"OmiOmi! Ya didn't tell me ya had a cousin! Komori-kun is so cool!" The two had apparently talked in the small amount of time it took Kiyoomi to step off the bus.</p>
<p>Atsumu's voice was a nice welcome to nationals. Hidden under his mask, he smiled. Making nationals every year was worth it, just for this.</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter, and why does he not get some weird nickname?" Kiyoomi scoffed. </p>
<p>"It doesn't matter?! Kiyoomi, you're in band because of me! You wouldn't know Atsumu!" Komori sounded so affronted. Komori apparently thought of himself as the angel that saved Kiyoomi's life by saying "Kiyoomi!! Join band!! I'm too scared to do it alone!" over and over in elementary school until Kiyoomi gave in.</p>
<p>Great, now Komori and Atsumu were both ganging up on him. He kicked at a rock on the ground and watching it skitter, stopping at Atsumu's shoe. </p>
<p>"Aww, did ya wanna see me, Omi-kun? I couldn't wait to see ya!" Atsumu grinned, all bright and sunny and way too strong. Kiyoomi was glad half his face was covered by a mask. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi let out a firm "no" before going with Komori to meet up with his band. Komori pestered him with questions about Atsumu and Kiyoomi shut down every single one.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div>Kiyoomi stared at the line-up that year. His and Atsumu's schools would be going back to back. Kiyoomi would see Atsumu backstage, finally see him with his trombone. That disgusting instrument was Atsumu's only flaw. Case in hand, Kiyoomi made his way backstage to get ready.<p>The chatter of other students filled the space, half nervous and half trying to calm others down. Kiyoomi looked around. It only took him a split second to spot Atsumu, shiny brass trombone in hand and talking to Osamu. Kiyoomi shook his head. He had other things to do first. And he certainly didn't want to be anywhere near that <i>thing</i>.</p>
<p>He found Komori and they unpacked their instruments side-by-side. Kiyoomi set the reed in his water cup as he prepared the rest of the oboe. He slid each joint together, methodical and precise. The weight of the wooden instrument was comforting in his hands. The matinence it required was a comforting ritual. He knew it was pristine and clean everytime he opened the case.</p>
<p>"OmiOmi, ya put yer instrument together so slow." </p>
<p>That voice behind him was unmistakable. It was like a familiar melody. Komori looked at Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi smiled just a little. </p>
<p>"I have to, I don't want to break it," he said, turning around and getting up to properly face Atsumu. The trombone in his hands shone like some gross beacon. Osamu was right next to him, also wielding a weapon of mass destruction. Brass instruments could probably end the world.</p>
<p>"Hey, Omi-kun! Watch this!" Atsumu grinned. His hands moved to hold his trombone properly. Oh no. One hand went to a little key on the slide. Kiyoomi grimaced. He knew what was coming. Atsumu opened the spit valve, and out came a waterfall of spit, falling too close to Kiyoomi's feet for comfort. Kiyoomi's eyes went wide and he stepped away, trying to avoid the puddle. Kiyoomi 1000000% for sure just got the plague and would be dying. Bye-bye, see you in the afterlife. Atsumu and Komori were laughing. Kiyoomi glared.</p>
<p>"'Tsumu saved that from the last time we played. He was all 'If I see OmiOmi, I wanna freak him out!' I told him he was dumb," Osamu said. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi held back a chuckle, more grossed out at the fact it was old spit on the floor. Atsumu waited for this? To do some small prank on Kiyoomi? It was gross. The bacteria had babies whose babies had babies and then- Kiyoomi stopped. He didn't even want to imagine it.</p>
<p>"'Samu! Shut up! He didn't need ta know that!" Atsumu frantically tried to shut his brother up, arms floundering. He was like some panicking animal. It was cute.</p>
<p>Kiyoomi laughed. "You're such a loser, Miya." At this comment, Atsumu looked shocked. He had probably never been called a loser by anyone in his life except Osamu. </p>
<p>"Inarizaki Junior High! You're on!" Someone backstage yelled.</p>
<p>"Oh! Omi-kun! Gotta go, see ya later, listen for me!" As Atsumu walked away, his voice got quieter and quieter. He was like a little mosquito. Those were gross and carried diseases, just like Atsumu carried that disease-infested trombone.</p>
<p>Kiyoomi scoffed. Komori looked at him. "Let's go closer so you can see your booooyfriend play," Komori teased. Kiyoomi's face turned a vivid shade of pink.</p>
<p>"Shut up, my threat from the bus still stands. Miya isn't my boyfriend." </p>
<p>Komori laughed, but the two went closer to the divide between back and on stage, warm lights illuminating the instruments on stage. Kiyoomi thought Atsumu's trombone shone the brightest. It was totally because it was the most disgusting. Totally.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**********</p>
</div><b>High School, 1st year</b><p>Kiyoomi looked at the silver keys of his oboe reflecting the stage light. They were like little stars. This was it. He ended up going to Itachiyama for high school, a school known for its top-tier concert band. He hadn't seen Atsumu yet this year, but knew Inarizaki high school was there, and had already played. Kiyoomi hoped he'd see Atsumu. </p>
<p>The director stepped up to the podium, and the band sat up, instruments ready. The director made eye contact with Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi brought the reed to his lips, sucking in a breath. A flick of the wrist and Kiyoomi's sound filled the hall. It was clear and resonant. It was like he was sending out a searchlight, playing for one person. A sweet melody, made better by the rest of the band entering. </p>
<p>During the solo, Kiyoomi only had one thought:</p>
<p>
  <i>Listen to me, Miya Atsumu. </i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***********</p>
</div>By some stroke of luck, Itachiyama and Inarizaki were seated next to each other again. It took almost no time for Atsumu to come and greet Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi played with a curl, hoping it looked okay.<p>"OmiOmi! That was so cool! Ya were sooo good!" his eyes were shiny, a huge grin on his face. Out of every ounce of praise Kiyoomi got, Atsumu's small comment meant the most. </p>
<p>"Thank you, Miya. Hopefully it means we will beat you." Kiyoomi was glad to have banter again with Atsumu. It was fun and comforting.</p>
<p>"Eh, we'll see. We did preeeeetty good this year," Atsumu sing-songed. The two were sitting side by side, Kiyoomi more sitting closer to Atsumu and Komori on his other side. </p>
<p>Before Kiyoomi could respond, a look of surprise grew on Atsumu's face. "Oh! OmiOmi, do ya have a cell phone?" </p>
<p>"I do, Miya." Kiyoomi wondered where this was going to go. He hoped it was what he thought it could be.</p>
<p>"Here! I wrote down my number, we can talk outside of nationals now!"  Atsumu looked so legitimately happy, Kiyoomi couldn't say no even if he wanted to (there was no way he'd say no).</p>
<p>"Alright. Maybe I'll just happen to lose it," Kiyoomi teased. He took the slip of paper from Atsumu, fingers brushing. A shock went up Kiyoomi's arm. He put the paper safely inside his oboe case. </p>
<p>"Yay! Now ya can talk to me all ya want!"</p>
<p>Kiyoomi scoffed. "I'm sure it would be a great honor to talk to the great Miya Atsumu." </p>
<p>"Hey! I'm a catch! Ya just don't know it." Atsumu pursed his lips and looked away. </p>
<p>'I do know it,' Kiyoomi thought. The two remained side by side the whole concert, a little closer than necessary. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi beat Atsumu and shoved it in his face.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: Miya. This is Sakusa Kiyoomi.</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: Omiomi! U texted me ( •̀ ω •́ )✧</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: Sadly. </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: We made nats this year, see u there omiomi (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)( •̀ ω •́ )y </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: See you. </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>*************</p>
</div><b>High School, 2nd year</b><p>Atsumu and Kiyoomi had texted before nationals, and they knew they wouldn't get to see each other until after they performed. Kiyoomi felt a fluttering in his chest, his anticipation growing. Just to do something with his hands, he tightened his tie and adjusted his collar. Komori, of course, teased him. </p>
<p>"Kiyoomi, you're super uptight. Is it because of Miya-san?"</p>
<p>Kiyoomi blanched. "Are you serious? I'm just nervous about nationals is all. I have another solo this year, and both you and I know how the last one went." this was somewhat true. Kiyoomi was nervous. If he messed up his first nationals solo, why should he think this one will be better?</p>
<p>"Aww, you'll do great! Don't worry!" Komori exclaimed. "Anyways, look! We're here!" Komori pointed out the window at the familiar nationals building. The imposing structure cast a shadow on the ground, looking more like an execution building than a concert hall. Both students and audience members bustled about. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi sighed. He wished he could see Atsumu before, just so the boy could talk some sense into Kiyoomi. Being here, in person, made Kiyoomi's fear over the solo all the more real. He tugged at a curl of hair. He knows his last one went well, but the time he messed up still haunted him. It couldn't happen again.</p>
<p>After everyone got off the bus, Komori and Kiyoomi left, mask already on Kiyoomi's face like a second skin. His hand was tight around the handle of the oboe case. </p>
<p>Komori looked back at him. "Kiyoomi, for real, you can calm down. No one in that audience besides the Miyas and our family knows it's you. So what?"</p>
<p>Kiyoomi just shook his head. "It's more complicated than that. Just don't worry about it." </p>
<p>Walking up the steps into the building, Kiyoomi felt more like he was committing a death sentence rather than performing a concert.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div>This was it. Kiyoomi sat on his seat on the stage, warm spotlights glaring. The director stood at the podium. The audience buzzed like bees before being cut off by the director raising the baton. The entire band took a unison breath and played.<p>Kiyoomi knew this music; he had practiced it so much, it was like second nature. They got to the part of the oboe solo. Kiyoomi took a breath and played. Fingers smoothly moved across the silver keys, sound opening from the oboe bell like a flower. This was it. Kiyoomi did it. He lived, and did well. The lights felt like a heavenly glow, praising him for working so hard. After, only one thought remained in Kiyoomi's mind. </p>
<p>
  <i>I hope Atsumu Miya liked it.</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***************</p>
</div>Kiyoomi felt like he had never packed up sooner. He quickly ran a swab through the oboe and stuck a small feather in the reed. It was a comforting ritual. As soon as all the spit was out, he dismantled it and put it in the case, hands a furious motion. Komori looked over.<p>"You did well, but now you really gotta calm down! You'll see Miya-san, don't worry." Komori laughed. Kiyoomi was grateful for Komori's reassurance, but didn't voice it. He just let out a huff. </p>
<p>As soon as both were packed up, Komori and Kiyoomi walked up the stairs and made their way to the student sitting section. This year, again, likely due to the alphabet, Inarizaki and Itachiyama were right next to each other. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi's eyes widened. The first thing he saw was god-awful piss yellow. Was that Atsumu? His old black hair was replaced by a garish shade of yellow. Kiyoomi almost scoffed. It was like the color of that disgusting tromboe. </p>
<p>As soon as Atsumu saw Kiyoomi, he waved the curly-haired boy over. "OmiOmi! YA did super good! Like WOAH!" Atsumu's face radiated pure joy and Kiyoomi smiled. He walked over to Atsumu to join him. </p>
<p>"Thank you, Miya." Kiyoomi kept it short, worried he would say more than he needed to. </p>
<p>"What do ya think of my hair? I dyed it 'cuz everyone keeps sayin' I'm 'Samu,' he said, gesturing toward his terrible hair. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi hummed. "It looks like piss." </p>
<p>Atsumu squawked, and the people by him laughed. Kiyoomi looked over. There was Osamu, hair a nice shade of grey. Some boy that looked like a cat, and another boy with black and white hair. </p>
<p>"Oh! Omi-kun. This is Sunarin and the other is Kita-san. Kita-san is very scary." Atsumu stage-whispered the last part and gestured to his friends. Sunarin was the cat-looking one and the other was Kita. Kiyoomi just nodded. </p>
<p>" 'Tsumu kept talkin' about you, sayin' 'I can't wait to see OmiOmi!' and 'I bet he'll be even cooler this year!'" Osamu joked. Kiyoomi felt his face get red. Atsumu threw a fit, cheeks the color of a cherry. </p>
<p>Kita, clearly the peacemaker, interupttedAll he said in a quiet voice was "Miyas." The two stopped immediately. Suna and Kiyoomi laughed. Kita's power was imense. Kita turned to Kiyoomi, a small smile on his face. "Sakusa-san, you did well."</p>
<p>Kiyoomi muttered a quiet "thank you." Kita's presence was intimidating. He knew why the Miyas quickly shut up. </p>
<p>Atsumu's eyes opened wider and he grabbed Kiyoomi's arm. "OmiOmi, the rest of the concerts will start soon! We gotta watch it together again!"</p>
<p>Atsumu's hand felt like a brand on his arm. Afraid to say anything at all, Kiyoomi just nodded. He sat with Atsumu, right where he felt like he belonged. Near the end, Atsumu fell asleep, head falling on Kiyoomi's shoulder. Kiyoomi coughed. Osamu snickered. Kita gave him a clearly knowing look. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi let Atsumu sit there until the cheers of students learning their results awoke him. That year, Atsumu beat Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi hit his arm as soon as he opened his mouth.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: OmiOmi! U did super good, see u next year! φ(゜▽゜*)♪ </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: Yes. See you. You won't win next year. </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>:  Ur on!! ヾ(≧へ≦)〃w(ﾟДﾟ)w </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: I'm gonna be the president of the club next year. U think I'll do well? </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: Do you need to clean your ears? They didn't say Osamu? </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: Mean!!!! How come he's Osamu but I'm Miya  ヽ（≧□≦）ノ </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: You'll do fine, Atsumu. Calm down. </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: OmiOmi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ψ(￣∀￣)Ψ(❤´艸｀❤) </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: Shut up, Miya. </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>*************</p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Sakusa Kiyoomi</b>: I am going to Senzoku Gakuen College, most likely. You going to do music? </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p><b>Miya Atsumu</b>: OMIOMMMMMMMIIIIIII!!!!! IM GONNA GO THERE TOO!!!! FOR TROMBONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (❤´艸｀❤)(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ヾ(≧▽≦*)o </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>*************</p>
</div><b>High School, 3rd Year</b><p>This was it. Kiyoomi was going to tell Atsumu how he felt this year. He had to. Kiyoomi had thought about Atsumu so much, they had talked almost constantly. Every time they talked, Kiyoomi felt at peace, despite his curt and rude responses. </p>
<p>He held his phone in a tight grip in his hand, nerves settling even though the bus ride to nationals just began. He knew this would be the best time to talk to Atsumu. Confess, and, if Atsumu rejects him (which he probably will), Kiyoomi could block his number and they'd never talk again. A great, foolproof plan. Kiyoomi scoffed at himself. He really was sad. Running a hand through his curls, he hiked the collar of his jacket past his chin and slept the rest of his ride. His dreams were filled with a certain piss-haired trombonist.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**********</p>
</div>The screech of the stopping bus wheels woke Kiyoomi up. This was it, D-day, the death of Kiyoomi Sakusa. Maybe he'd lose too much air playing oboe and pass away on stage. He wasn't the type to be so self-deprecating, but this was Atsumu. The one person who could apparently turn stoic, rude Kiyoomi into a pining gay disaster.<p>"Kiyoomi, you good?" Komori said, clearly off-put by Kiyoomi's unusual attitude. "You worried about germs or something?"</p>
<p>"I'm confessing to Atsumu today." That was all Kiyoomi said, just a single sentence. Silence hung in the air. Everyone was getting off the bus. Komori stared at Kiyoomi, eyes wide. </p>
<p>"Oh, I see," Komori trailed off. Then, a maniacal grin appeared on his face. "You like someone! Stone-cold Sakusa has a crush!" He giggled. Third-year high schooler Komori Motoya <i>giggled.</i> Sakusa glared and walked off the bus. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi almost tripped on the last step. Right there, grinning, piss-hair just a little less offensive, was Atsumu Miya. Kiyoomi stared. Atsumu waved. In a trance, Kiyoomi walked over. Komori sent him a glance before moving on. </p>
<p>"OmiOmi! How are ya doin'?" Atsumu shone brightly. Kiyoomi was oddly whipped. </p>
<p>"Ah- I'm good." Kiyoomi's knuckles were nearly white with how hard he held his oboe case. </p>
<p>"Ya sure? Ya look like yer about to pass out from nerves." Atsumu's head tilted to the side, a questioning look on his face. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi took in a breath. This was it, he was going to do it. He released his breath. Butterflies flew in his stomach, wings beating against the sides.  "Mi- no. Atsumu." Kiyoomi avoided Atsumu's eyes. "I- want to spend more time with you." Kiyoomi sighed. He let himself down once again. </p>
<p>"What do ya mean, Omi-kun?" Atsumu ran a hand through his hair. "We're gonna spend time together today."</p>
<p>"Atsumu. I want to spend time with you, outside of band, just by ourselves," Kiyoomi's words got softer and softer. He brought a hand up to play with a curl. </p>
<p>Atsumu's eyes went wide. Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya. Don't worry about it. Just wanted to ask," he said, pouting. </p>
<p>Atsumu laughed. He laughed so hard, his voice was the most beautiful thing Kiyoomi had ever heard and his tears were like stars. "OmiOmi! Yer funny! Ya really think I didn't like ya? I made an ass out of myself so many times! I liked ya for so long." Atsumu wiped his eyes, smiling so sweet and genuinely at Kiyoomi that Kiyoomi felt like his heart exploded. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi grinned. "I didn't think I'd make it this far." </p>
<p>Atsumu grabbed Kiyoomi's hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. "Ya probably gotta go soon, Omi. We'll beat ya," he said. </p>
<p>Kiyoomi's face felt like it was on fire. He just nodded, resolutely looking up and walking away. He looked back and grinned at Atsumu. He didn't know where they'd go from here, but Kiyoomi didn't mind. Nationals had brought them together, and, here he was again, stepping into those same glass doors and into the same concert hall. Kiyoomi smiled. Today, he'd play for Atsumu.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**********</p>
</div>Kiyoomi and Atsumu didn't find out who won until later. If they snuck off to the bathroom during awards just to spend time together, they wouldn't say. Komori and Osamu grinned at their absence.
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